


anchor, up to me

by hysteries



Series: beginning middle end (dimension 20 alphabet 2021) [5]
Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Jet and Ruby are here too but they're just little babies!, Loss of Identity, The world needs more Caramanda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:13:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29765673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hysteries/pseuds/hysteries
Summary: Caramelinda Rocks faces trials, tribulations, and tragedy. Amanda Maillard loves her queen throughout.
Relationships: Amanda Maillard/Caramelinda Rocks
Series: beginning middle end (dimension 20 alphabet 2021) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2179170
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14
Collections: Dimension 20 Alphabet 2021





	anchor, up to me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Dimension 20 Alphabet 2021 collection. My prompt was **grief** and the title was taken from _Anchor_ by Novo Amor. As always, please feel free to check me out on Twitter [@nellgwyns](https://twitter.com/nellgwyns).
> 
> I can't believe I've fallen behind on this already! I do have my _e_ and _f_ prompts all planned out, though, so I'll hopefully get through those later this week. But this story was one I had percolating in the back of my head (obviously in longer form) forever and so I just had to write it. 
> 
> I really adore the implied relationship between Caramelinda and her Queen's Champion, Amanda Maillard, and wanted to delve into it. Major credits to Sam, whose [fanart](https://kindlespark.tumblr.com/post/634042349415284736/know-that-i-would-gladly-be-the-icarus-to-your) of the two of them totally informed how I see their relationship. What I'm really curious about is how it happened. How a knight of the Crullers became the queen's champion and lover, and how a widowed and remarried queen fell in love again. I'm not trying to answer every question here, but I did want to tie that into the big question of _after_ in A Crown of Candy. Who do these characters become? How can they live out the rest of their lives, having lived through the unspeakable? 
> 
> **TW** for brief discussions of childbirth/pregnancy and the death of a child.

The queen once asked her:

“Amanda, when was it that you knew?”

Her hair fell between them, a golden curtain that Amanda could not help but reach to touch. And touch it she did, tangling her fingers through Caramelinda’s hair and pulling lightly on it. The queen sighed.

“Knew what?”

“That you wanted me.”

Amanda had laughed, then.

“I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you.”

Caramelinda’s expression shifted. Softness turned to sly lines, the dimple on her right cheek pressed deep into her skin.

“Not like that.” She bowed her head and nuzzled her nose gently against Amanda’s jaw. Radiant light the colour of Caramelinda’s hair filled Amanda, leaving her warm and wanting. “When was it that you knew you loved me?”

Amanda didn’t have to think then. The answer came to her, immediate and unbidden.

“That morning on the grounds. Jet and Ruby.”

Ever since the princesses had been born, the castle had become a bustle of activity. Before, it was as though every person held their breath. Now, they could all let go, and breathe they did. There was nonstop chatter, nonstop running back and forth. _The queen craves sweet cream_ , and the cooks would go mad trying to make some. _The princesses favour leaves_ , and there would be dozens of guards searching for the perfect one to make the Princess Jet or Ruby laugh.

Amanda hated it.

A quiet castle was safe. She could have her guards at every door and know exactly who came in and out. A busy castle, on the other hand, had too many variables. She couldn’t be everywhere at once. Officially, her position was to watch over the Cruller knights. Unofficially, the Lady Cruller had asked her to look closely after the royal family. Even more unofficially, Amanda could not stop herself from watching the queen.

Queen Caramelinda, Her Majesty, whatever her title was – she was not like the others here. She had none of the king’s vapid disinterest or lack of purpose. She was all purpose, all drive. The only time Amanda had ever caught her frozen was on her wedding night. She’d stumbled about her then, when she’d taken to the balcony and wept in the quiet of her garden. A queen crying at her wedding was not strange, necessarily, but there had been a disquieting sound behind Her Majesty’s sobs. A devastation that Amanda had not heard or felt since she was young, when her mother died.

She’d offered her a handkerchief, and the queen had taken it. They’d stood outside together, knight and sovereign monarch, staring in silence at the inky blankness. Looking at a truth neither could face. There was no coming back from grief.

After a few minutes, the queen had asked her name.

“Sir Maillard,” Amanda had trained herself to say, but then she carried on, “Amanda.”

The queen had smiled, nose red and eyes puffed.

“Amanda. Lovely to meet you.”

And since then, Amanda found herself in the queen’s periphery. Technically a guard of the Crullers, but volunteering to the Tartguard whenever Her Majesty needed an escort. All the while, she told herself that she was just doing her job. Sticking close to the royal family, as her Lord and Lady requested.

But there was nothing official in how Amanda prowled the castle now, searching through the havoc to ensure the queen was safe. She’d left her confinement early, insisting that it was an archaic practice and that she was completely fine to spend time with her daughters out in fresh air. Amanda agreed with the fact that it was a completely misogynistic and old-fashioned, but the thought of the queen and her daughters outside turned her stomach. What if one of the babes was stung by a honeybee? What if the queen suddenly felt faint so far outside of her bedchamber? There might not be anyone looking after them – anyone adept, at least.

She breathed out a long sigh of relief when she reached the queen’s gardens and saw the little family safe. With the king in a council meeting, Caramelinda alone sat on a wooden bench with her daughters snug in a pram next to her. Ladies flitted around them and as Amanda watched, Caramelinda laughed at something one of them said. The sound was reminded her of liquid gold.

Her armour clanked around her as she stepped forward, breaking the spell. Caramelinda turned and within a second, her face lit up in recognition.

“Amanda!” The queen called, forgoing formality. She smiled, and it was an expression Amanda had never seen before. Soft, unguarded. The smile left creases around her eyes, lines that spoke of a life well-lived. “Come join us!”

“Your Majesty, I’m on rounds,” she began gruffly, but Caramelinda waved an imperious hand in the air.

“Please, just for a moment. Come meet my daughters.”

Amanda had seen the princesses in passing, here and there. Always in official capacity, watching them be shuttled safely between the king and queen’s rooms. She had never even thought to introduce herself. After all, they were babes, and Amanda was a soldier. She would be like part of the landscape as they grew up, more furniture than person. That is, if she didn’t perish in some faraway war. She did not think even for a second about the fact that, if the Crullers had it their way, she would be a constant fixture in the lives of these two small girls.

Her Majesty’s request hit Amanda like a rapier through her breastplate. Sudden and piercing, and so surprising that she felt her own mouth hang slightly open.

“Alright.”

The ladies around Caramelinda quieted and all stepped back. That was how Amanda liked it, normally. A guard was to be imposing, not accessible. To do her job, she needed others to live in fear of her sword. But as the queen smiled down at her, Amanda realized how much she had missed this. Being a person rather than a soldier.

“That’s Ruby, and that’s Jet,” the queen instructed quietly.

That much was obvious. Both the girls were already filling in with colour. Ruby’s hair glowed bright red against her scalp, while Jet’s dark curls stood out against the white of the pillow. They looked like the king, mostly, but there was something of Her Majesty in them too. It was the eyes, Amanda thought. Both girls looked up at her with wide eyes and, though they were young, she would swear they were taking her in.

“They’re beautiful.”

“I know,” Caramelinda replied, voice hushed.

In front of Amanda, Jet reached forward and bumped her small fist against Ruby’s. Somehow, they both opened their hands, and seemed to tangle their fingers together. Amanda could see Ruby’s pinky laced around Jet’s, joining the two of them together as a single unit.

“I don’t have any siblings,” Amanda blurted out.

Shit.

She never spoke out of turn like this. Lord and Lady Cruller had trained her specifically on decorum. _Never let them see you slip_ , Lord Cruller liked to say.

Amanda cringed. She shifted to look at the queen, apology already on her lips. “I’m sorry. That was out of turn.”

“No, no.” The queen was still smiling, those laughter lines deep around her eyes. “I understand. I didn’t either, you see.”

She moved, sliding to her feet with an ease Amanda didn’t expect from a woman who’d just given birth weeks earlier, and came up next to her. She was small, smaller than she looked in her court gowns. Amanda could look over her head and still have a few of all the goings-on.

As Caramelinda bent down to look at her daughters, Amanda noticed something else too. She smelled like the sweetest of sugar.

“I always hated being alone. That’s why King Jaidan asked if I could stay on at court as Sapphria’s playmate, I begged my family to agree.” Caramelinda’s voice wavered slightly. “It’s difficult to be a child alone in this world.”

Amanda thought back to her own childhood, the work she bore to help her father. “That it is.”

“But these two,” Caramelinda paused and reached forward. She laid her hand gently on top of those of her daughters, palm covering the linked pinkies underneath. “They’ll never have to be alone. They’ll always have each other.”

The queen smiled down at her daughters and something strange happened then. Amanda would swear a radiant golden light enveloped them all. Maybe it was just the queen’s long hair, spilling down towards the pram and reflecting the sunlight. Maybe it was the Bulb, blessing the group of them. Whatever it was, it was the single most beautiful sight Amanda had ever been privy to.

“Yes,” Amanda promised herself, “Yes, they will.”

Princess Jet gurgled a deeply unladylike sound, almost like an answer, and Caramelinda snorted out an equally undignified laugh.

“I believe she agrees with us.”

She looked back up at Amanda then, and Amanda’s heart choked her throat. “Would you like to sit with me awhile longer?”

There were rounds to do, and Tartguard to train, and villains to stop, and Crullers to protect. She should turn back now before she fell in too deep.

“Yes,” she answered instead. “I would like that very much.”

She followed Caramelinda to the bench, and that was that.

The twins’ nineteenth birthday stands in stark contrast to their eighteenth. Ruby is with the circus, twirling through far-off air. She insists that this year, she won’t celebrate. The court is in Comida, the king and queen acknowledging the date by inviting the Queen of Candia for a feast. They all dine together in near silence.

And Jet is in the ground.

After dinner ends, Amanda takes one of the fortress passageways to Caramelinda’s room. Her plan is to be there before the queen arrives so that she doesn’t have to spend a moment of this day alone, but she’s too late. As she opens the heavy wooden door, Caramelinda stands in front of her, arms laced around her stomach like she’s just been stabbed.

“Cara,” Amanda says, and the queen falls forward. Amanda wraps her into an embrace, tucking Caramelinda’s head under her chin and leaving her to squeeze as tightly as she likes.

They stand like this for some time. Caramelinda’s sobs rock through her body and Amanda takes all of them into herself, letting the two of them sway together. She doesn’t try to soothe or pontificate. All she does is run her fingers through her hair, tangling through sugar-sweet gold.

“I know,” she says, over and over. “I know.”

She can’t understand, and she can’t say that it’s alright, but she can say that she does _know_ because she knows Caramelinda. And so, she knows what Caramelinda is saying through her tears and tightening grip.

Amanda carries her forwards to the bed, her movements slow and delicate. She places her queen down first and lays at her side, never leaving her grasp for a second.

“Do you remember that day in your garden? The sun was so bright, I thought it was coming from you.”

Caramelinda doesn’t say anything, but a note of her breathing changes.

“The girls were loud back then. Even for babies, they were loud. That was the first thing I noticed about them. You were so quiet, so serene in that garden, and they were giggling to themselves.”

Amanda goes back to Caramelinda’s hair, combing through it with all the gentleness she can muster.

“You asked me to meet them, and I thought I’d heard wrong, because castle guards aren’t introduced to princesses like that. Like they’re family.”

She presses her lips to Caramelinda’s forehead. Somewhere, in between the sobs, she hears Cara sigh, like she’s coming back into herself.

“I was just supposed to be part of the furniture. I thought I would be, until I met you.” In the nineteen years that she’s loved Caramelinda, Amanda has always been certain of one thing. Somehow, Caramelinda saw her first.

Loved her first.

“Ruby,” Caramelinda speaks through tears, “She’s all alone now.”

“No, she’s not.”

“She was never supposed to be alone.”

“She has you.”

They’ve had this conversations dozens of times since the war, but that doesn’t make Amanda’s answers any less true.

She presses another kiss to Caramelinda’s forehead before speaking again. “I promise you, you’re enough.”

Caramelinda is quiet for a long moment then. Amanda thinks she can read her mind, feel the gears turning. She doesn’t believe it now, but that’s alright. Morning will come and Amanda will make sure she does again, will do this every day that she can.

“Can you finish the story?” Caramelinda murmurs against her collarbone.

Amanda nods.

“Your maids got all quiet when I showed up, like they were _afraid_ of me,” and there it is, a snort from Caramelinda that’s a sob mixed with laughter, “When they had _no need to be_ …”

Amanda carries on. This isn’t the first time, but she’ll repeat every story of theirs back to Caramelinda however many times that she needs to hear them. She’ll breathe life back into her queen, bit by bit, through memory and love, and embrace the grief too.

The queen once asked her:

“How can you stand to be around me now, when I’ve lost so much and hurt so many? What part of me is left?”

And Amanda answered:

“All of you.”


End file.
